


Broken Fall

by ProPinkist



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Hershel has ~trauma~ as much as the games ignore it, Hurt/Comfort, aka what we deserved, alluded prequel trilogy spoilers, also me: desperately tries to give Flora more characterization than the games barely give her, me banging my hands on the table: break him! break him! break him!, oh boy does he have trauma :'), where's the alternate timeline where she has a more active presence in the main games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProPinkist/pseuds/ProPinkist
Summary: Barely minutes after officially meeting Professor Layton, Flora learns an infinite amount about him, despite knowing nothing at all.She is there for him.
Relationships: Hershel Layton & Flora Reinhold
Comments: 11
Kudos: 26





	Broken Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I don't fic for like eight months and this is what I come back to, apparently? I jump from fandom to fandom in my writing so much I give myself whiplash lmao. But anyway, this series is my childhood, I love it so, so much, and I've always wanted to write for it, so it's about time I did. :') If you're new to me, hi, I write nothing but crippling angst and hurt/comfort (starting to think the PL series shaped me into being this way) and found family feels in way too many rambling words~
> 
> Why does writing Layton emotional feel so... hard. It's hard to know what's too ooc for him, since he doesn't emote a ton really until Unwound Future, not even as much in the prequel games ugh... Anyway this parallel keeps me awake at night thinking about it so uh yeah. < / 3

“Follow me!”

Flora winced, disoriented, from where she sat clumsily on the floor, struggling to make sense of what was happening. The command reached her ears from far away, and no sooner had she somewhat recovered from her fall was she suddenly being pulled to her feet again gently, the man’s expression apologetic as he yanked her towards the door, his younger friend close behind them. “We must evacuate this tower immediately!”

They ran out onto the balcony surrounding the cottage, the man Flora knew to be named Professor Layton gazing around wildly, and the other – Luke – doing the same. The tower continued to shake violently as she tried her hardest to stay standing, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched them, waiting for a signal, fear constricting her throat more and more with each passing second.

She had never been in real danger before, not like this. The tower had always been her safe place, her home… and now it threatened to kill her.

_I can’t die here, not now, not when I’ve only just—!_

“What now?!”

In answer to Luke, the professor turned towards the stairs going down, their only available exit. He grimaced, but forged ahead, pushing her with him as he went. “Come on!”

His hand against her back was firm, but soft, and he did not let go. Somehow, it was comforting.

Despite her fear, Flora leaned into him, and ran.

The stairs were long and never-ending, and never more so than now. Flora had been up and down them many a time, to the point that they no longer tired her, but with the constant tremors, having to run, and her frantic state of mind, it was all she could do to not topple forward face-first into what would certainly be a bloody, painful death – or even before that, off the edge of the narrow steps and into the abyss below. All that kept her from tripping the long distance down was the professor’s arm around her back, as steady as it could be as he ran beside her. Luke led the way, with impressive speed for his small size, as they raced down and down and down, debris falling all around them and the shaking only growing worse. Flora grit her teeth and kept her eyes at her feet, her heart still in her ears, and adrenaline pushing her forward, and _determination._

_(determination to be free, as she was always meant to be)_

They were making good progress, until a bit past halfway down, it happened.

A large chunk of the tower wall suddenly broke away directly above them, and before Flora knew what was happening, it had fallen right in their path, destroying the stairs, Luke’s momentum carrying him over the rocks haphazardly before it all fell away completely, his cries echoing in her ears as the professor’s body pushed her forward, and forward, and _forward_ over _nothing_ , neither of them able to stop themselves as her feet met empty air, and Flora **_screamed_** as she fell—

and fell—

and _fell—_

_~~I’m sorry, Father, Mother; I’m sorry, Matthew, and Bruno; I’m~~ _ ~~sorry _, Lady Dahlia—_~~

—And then suddenly, she stopped.

“F-Flora…!”

Cold air whipped around her as pain shot through her arm, awareness coming back slowly but surely. Flora glanced up, her eyes wide as she was barely able to breathe, and there was none other than the professor. He was clinging onto her for dear life, his body hunched over the fraying edge of the wooden steps that looked ready to crumble at any second, and she hung by the metaphorical thread – her life was, quite literally, in his hands.

Time seemed to stop as she swayed there, the darkness threatening to engulf her. Her body was numb, and shaking, and so, so _cold,_ but as Flora stared up at the face of her savior, all of it seemed to melt away. She could only focus on the expression she saw there, one that she had never thought she would see, even in the very short time she had known its owner.

In Professor Layton’s eyes was complete and utter _fear._

And somehow, despite her current plight, something about those eyes made her more afraid than anything she had ever known.

_(she would never forget that face, not for as long as she lived: Flora would remember it over and over again, time after time, years later, unendingly._

_There was a story in those eyes. Many stories, truly, though she would not know them for ages to come)_

Suddenly, her fate hardly mattered. In that moment, Flora realized the only thing that did.

_He must be protected._

Ignoring everything else, she braved a smile, her eyes shining as she hoped it was _enough_.

_“Professor…!”_

Luke’s panicked voice, however, suddenly snapped the one in question out of his trance, and brought her back to reality as well, as the tower jolted dangerously even more. The professor shook his head slightly, and, to Flora’s surprise, hauled her up and away from the abyss with surprising ease, setting her down lightly on her feet as she gripped his coat. She wasted no time in stepping back away from the edge to safety, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as the professor shouted across the chasm. “Go ahead without us, Luke! I have an idea!”

“But…!”

“We’re fine! Go on!”

Despite his words, Flora could hear the tremble in his voice. Luke, as well, seemed reluctant, but he complied and took off once more, though not before she caught a glimpse of a worried expression that she sensed had little to do with their current predicament.

“Professor…?”

Again, everything around her seemed to fade into the background, _unimportant,_ as she watched his face, concerned. The professor seemed lost in thought, even with all the racket and movement, his eyes fixed on some indiscernible point behind her, far, far away… farther away than she could ever imagine.

How badly she wanted to _know_ , know what it was he was looking at.

_(or perhaps she would find that she didn’t want to)_

The calling of his name broke his trance again, and the professor looked down at her, breathing shakily as he smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “Ahem — sorry, my dear; it’s all right,” he murmured, reaching his hand up awkwardly until it hit the brim of his hat, which he promptly pulled down a bit over his forehead. “This way.”

A particularly violent tremor startled her, and Flora yelped as she stumbled and clung to the man, the other catching her. His guiding hand returned to her back, clearly pushing her in the direction they had come from, and Flora reveled in the comfort of his support, of his warmth, of _him_ … but resisted the pressure, remaining where she was as she shook her head furtively.

“Wait.”

Turning around to face him, she looked up and met his gaze. His expression was still slightly dazed, and bewildered, and Flora could hear that his breaths were unnaturally fast, loud enough to match the sound of her own heartbeat.

She understood what was happening, though he was doing his best to mask it. It wasn’t often, but she had suffered it too, a handful of times _(every time she had thought too hard about how she might forever be alone—)._

She couldn’t just ignore it. Not when she understood how he felt, even if only slightly.

The tower continued to rumble, but Flora was strangely calm, as she stared up at the man who had discovered her secret, the one who had rescued her – the one who would give her a new life, a _real_ life, with or without him.

 _(but she_ needed _it to be him, and no one else)_

“I…”

Swallowing, watching his poor, confused and strained expression, Flora stepped forward unsteadily, wrapping her arms around the professor and squeezing him tightly. She leaned into him for support, and buried her face in his shirt, murmuring loud enough for him to hear over the tremors.

“…It’s okay. I’m okay, Professor. I’m alive.”

The result was instantaneous.

“…ah…”

Immediately, she felt him wilt, gasping with relief as he backed up against the tower wall, sagging into it. Flora moved with him, still holding on, and refusing to let go.

After a moment of hesitation, she felt the professor slowly return her embrace, his hand cupping her head, and his arms keeping her steady, even as he himself trembled.

“…That… T-That you are, my dear. That you are.”

His voice wavered, cracked, as he spoke. Flora nuzzled deeper, her eyes burning.

“You saved me.”

_I’m right here; I didn’t fall._

She could hear his breaths evening out, less panicked, as the tension left him. His body was warm, and soft, and kind, and _human_ – not a robot, but someone who had lived and seen and breathed more than she could ever dream of.

She didn’t know what it was that frightened him so, right now. Why the sight of her falling had broken him so much, that he had been so _desperate_ to save her from.

What living as a human out there, beyond St. Mystere, truly meant.

_(perhaps strife, and loneliness, and sorrow, and loss far beyond what even she had known)_

“…Thank you, Flora.”

But it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to know.

“…No, Professor Layton,” the Golden Apple whispered, her eyes brimming with tears even as she smiled. “Thank _you.”_

For now, this was enough.


End file.
